Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
My mouth crashes down on hers, and all the shit from before melts away.
I remember to talk after a few moments. “Did I say that? But we need to be fucking careful.”
I talk like an ape, act like one too as I lick more of her sweet taste from her lips. I hunger for her. And the concept is as alien as me being inside holding a woman that I’m prepared to start a war for. After a few fucking days too.
Jesus, all the reasons to stay away—and there’s a few—don’t seem to matter. What we have is so fucking basic, as basic as the need burning through my veins: she’s mine.
Tristan whimpers into my mouth and I go to pull away, worried I’ve pushed wrongly but her hand around the back of my neck squeezes, her nails pressing into my skin, and she deepens our kiss. With her other hand, she fights her way out of the towel and the scent of sweet need takes hold.
But I can’t fuck her after she’s been beaten.
“Don’t you dare tell me you can’t,” she hisses before she sucks on my lip.
How she knew the bruises threatened to derail this isn’t hard to figure out, but the noise of her wet pussy as she fingers herself has my path of care veering straight into giving her what she wants.
Perhaps it’s the reality of what happened, the failure I feel that she was hurt after we were together, or it might be the frustration of not finding who was responsible yet. Or it’s most probably how fucking furious I am that someone touched something of mine, but I’d give her anything.
“King,” she demands, her sweet scent blossoming so thick it’s like someone’s opened a new pack of bubble-gum right under my nose. And I fucking love the saccharinity of it, it’s so over the top I swear my teeth ache like I have cavities.
“What do you need, killer?” I growl quietly watching her eyes dilate the more I stop fighting to hold onto my control, the more I focus on her. My hold on my Alpha slips the longer I stare at her, and I have to crack my neck to ease the rush of endorphins targeting her need like a loosed arrow.
“You,” she insists. “Tomorrow, I want to feel your bruising touch on me because you have that right, and they don’t.”
“I’m not sure now’s a good time,” I hiss, my eyes dropping back to the biggest bruise on her body and instantly I see fucking red again.
“Focus on me,” she bites back, her nails dragging over my jaw.
I push against her touch.
“Please,” she says softly.
That’s what fucking tips me over the edge because hearing Tristan be loud, obnoxious, and full of fucking beans is all I need. And I’ll do anything to give her back her volume.
I squeeze her ass cheeks, pulling her closer. “I’m angry at you, killer. I told you to be safe, and look what fucking happened. You got hurt,” I say, my words tumbling out fast.
“Don’t make me…” She nearly gets whatever she was going to say out, but I slap her ass, silencing her.
“You want this?” I snap, kneading the fleshy part of her ass right over my handprint.
“God, yes,” Tristan’s moan is more pronounced than the resounding crack my hand made on her ass.
“Then turn the fuck around,” I bark.
She is fast as lightning as she spins, a visual reminder of her strength, but I need to know no one has stolen her inner fortitude because without question Tristan has two very opposing sides to her. And this side of her needs.
My hand covers the welt on her ass, and she undulates. The more she does it the more I focus on her wanting to feel my touch tomorrow. I grip her hip and drag her closer.
“Present for your Alpha,” I snap. This time I bark so loud I half expect the people in the next suite to bang against the wall but all that happens is a sweet sigh falls from her lips as she braces.
She whimpers again as my fingers dig deeper into her hips. This perfect Omega even drops down onto one shoulder so she can use her own hands to spread herself wide open.
Tristan twists around to watch as I unzip myself. Her eyes burn over my body, she seizes control of the moment in one fucking look. I barely manage to get my jeans undone before I surge inside in one thrust, giving her all the fucking power I can.
Tristan’s never been quiet in the way she is—talking, flirting, and fucking included. Since the moment we crashed into each other she’s been the same: loud, unapologetically so, and I need to hear and feel it again more than I need air to breathe.
Her pussy clamps around my cock in her own frantic desire. I know enough of her to know that she’s thrown by tonight. She’s using me to reclaim herself as much as I am doing the same to her. But that’s the simplicity of who we are—so fucking perfect and prepared to push each other even when it hurts.
I rut into her so hard and fast that I feel like I’m about to come after a few wicked but insanely amazing moments. But as much as I am, she is too. Her pussy is already milking me with the primal need to be filled.
“Please, please, please,” she groans, her body meeting each slap of mine. Her breathing hitches, and I barely touch her clit and she’s falling apart on my cock dragging me along for the ride. I lean against her, bracing on one arm as I roar my release against the spot my claim will sit.
She falls forward, taking me with her. My cock stays buried in her pussy, my knot pressed against her ass, and she twists around searching for my mouth. I could kiss her for days—the fucking noises she makes are like listening to my favourite song on replay.
“King,” she teases against my mouth, “you can’t tell anyone about us.”
“What?” I growl.
“I just need us for a while. I don’t need the judgement,” she soothes, dragging her face over mine, scenting me up in the process.
“Don’t pull out,” she says, wiggling, trapping me deeper inside her. “We can talk like this.”
“Once I get my fucking breath back. Jesus, killer, you feel fucking right.” I drop my mouth to the back of her neck, biting down against it, rocking into her tight cunt some more.
“Hmmm.” She sways her hips, and I nearly get distracted completely. Sadly, we really do need to talk, and with my cock inside her I won’t. I pull out ignoring her protest before I fall backwards on the bed, pulling her up to lie on my chest.
“We gotta talk about what happened, Tristan. Did you get a look at the people who attacked you?” I ask, trailing my hands up her silky-smooth side. Each time I move my hand it stirs the air between us: bubble-gum and sex.
She rolls up to sit, straddling over my waist, trapping my cock under her pussy.
“Tristan,” I warn her, but she just rolls her eyes.
She pulls my hands up, setting them on her waist. “How did you know I was hurt?”
“Someone sent me a photo, killer.”
“Shit, that’s messed up.”
“You think?” I snap. And she drops down over me again, resting on her elbows so her pouty mouth is hovering over mine.
”Why would someonesend a photo of me to you, King?”
And the way she says my name is like no one’s ever said it right before. I’d bare my soul to hear her say it again.
“Club shit, Tristan,” I admit eventually, swiping my hair off my face.
She takes back my hand after I leave it behind me, putting it back on her body. Snake charming me. “King, what kind of club shit are you talking about?”
“Stuff that wouldn’t be good for you to know. I’m getting you a couple of people.”
I watch her face as she digests what I said.
“You going to be keeping tabs on me?”
“That a problem if I am?”
She reaches up and presses her lips to mine before talking against my mouth. “Pretty sure we know it’s not.”
My phone starts ringing again. And as much as I don’t want to leave her, I have to. I’ve got asswipes to track down and teach a valuable lesson.
“No one hurts you and gets away with it,” I say, making a point of pressing my hand to her bruised body before my eyes zero in on the black eye that still needs resolving.
The both of us wait to speak until my phone stops ringing.
“I’m going to leave with you,” she says, dipping in quickly for another kiss and going to pull away.
But I’m quicker and I roll, pinning her to the bed, kissing her deep until she’s squirming under me. “You got someone else you have to rush back to?”
“No,” she smirks before the play falls away and a whole lot of sass fills her eyes. “You? Any skanky biker bitches I have to sort out?”
“Killer, I promise you from this point on you’re the only skanky bitch I’ll be riding.”
“You calling me skanky?” She glowers all fake and pretty, pretending she is getting ready to fight.
“And nasty. Fucking filthy too.” I dip down and bite the side of her throat again. “Exactly what I want.”
She doesn’t fight or argue, instead she wraps those long legs around me again and we spend a remarkable amount of time making out before the inevitable happens and I slide back inside her body, knotting her until she’s deafening me with her pleasure.
Carrying her bags to the rental I picked up for her, sunrise is still hours away, but she looks like she’s ready to walk down the runway. It’s weird finding out Tristan is a model, even after all the photographer shit. Not sure how I feel about other people looking at her body, or face for that matter.
My phone rings again and she shakes her head. The fucking thing has been ringing non-stop, but I take Joker’s call as I guide Tristan into the lift. Her attack made me rethink a couple of things, including these two meeting. It has to be, because if something happens to me, he’s going to be the one I task with her welfare.
My call with Joker is over before the lift arrives only because he’s meeting us downstairs. Sliding my phone to my back pocket to free up a hand, I guide her inside then crowd against her, getting my last fill of her taste until fuck knows when. A quick chat upstairs and she’s already got me hooked up to her schedule and I’m in her phone under some other name, like she’s in mine. Except I’ll switch it out from King’s Skanky Queen to something less conspicuous, unless of course I don’t.
The lift shudders to a stop and without telling her she stays hidden in the corner of the lift as I scope out the mostly deserted underground garage. Joker’s big ass shadow is down where her car is parked but he’s the only person around.
I grab her hand, and she walks with me, her head held high, and no one would know she’s my secret lover or she’s just been attacked by some assholes that are about to be tracked down and beaten until they stop fucking breathing, because she owns the moment.
She beeps her car unlocked when we get close enough and Joker opens the cargo hold so I can put her bags in the back before we do anything else. I watch him though, making sure his eyes do not drift from Tristan’s face. And definitely not on her long as fuck legs in a pair of shorts that I nearly deemed too fucking short. The saucy wink I got when she pulled them up her hips was pretty telling of the mouthful I’d get if I told her to go change.
But we can have that conversation later on.
Joker is strangely quiet; his eyes stay on me and he’s careful to keep the look in his eyes devoid of anything that could be interpreted as a challenge. I gave him the heads up that I’d met someone when I spoke to him after I got the photo, but I guess there’s no mistaking the way I am standing just in front of Tristan and the plumes of threat rolling off my skin.
Tristan waits without saying a thing next to me, a small squeeze of her hand against mine. I speak eventually. “Joker, this is who I wanted you to meet.”
His impasse remains as he nods at her like he’s never met her before in his life, which is definitely not the case. Like me, he was introduced to Tristan last night at drinks and dinner with Raney and Koz and the rest of the Scorned Girls.
“Tristan,” she says confidently, reaching past me but not letting go of my hand to shake his. And as she moves, she stirs up the air, making it near impossible to deny my scent is all over her body.
And my come is still in her pussy though that fact is only for me and her.
“Looks like I’m your contact if you can’t get King,” he says carefully, still being mindful of his eyeline.
“Looks like,” she laughs loudly before she spins around and kisses the fuck out of me, leaving me growling against her lips. She pulls away to stare into my eyes for a second before she climbs in her car and drives off.
“Fuck, King… really?” Joker says eventually.
“What?” I snap, my fist clenching.
“Never thought I’d see the day is all. I mean if your ass can get owned by some tiny Omega I’m going to live in fucking hope too.” Joker bellows out a laugh and slaps my back, although his laughter is cut short. “We’ll find the pricks who touched her, and they’ll pay. And I’ll watch her if you can’t. But shit man, give me the heads up when you spill to Raney. She’s going to go ape shit when she finds out.”
“Fuck off,” I throw back at him but there’s nothing but relief in my words. Relief because having Joker’s word makes his promise gospel. “Now come on, I’ve got a job for the prospects involving some cunt’s photo studio and a firebomb. It will be good practice for ’em.”